Relaxation
by Onyx17
Summary: All Blades wants is a sparring match and a chance to prove his worth as a fighter. Sunstreaker obliges, but only insofar as his paintjob will permit. Sunstreaker/Blades Oneshot.


**Prompt: **Relaxation

_Transformers © Hasbro_

* * *

"Fight me"

Sunstreaker idly chucked the rock he'd been toying with out towards the ebbing water, optics dully settled to the breathing tide and observing the stone as it pattered across the water's surface, out of sight. He didn't look up at the sudden request…no, sudden _demand_. The copter never did utilise conventional greetings, particularly when addressing him. Though, in retrospect, that brusque candour was largely part of the reason as to why Sunstreaker actually _enjoyed_ Blades' company, never mind tolerated it.

"Why should I?" Though engaging or not, the Lamborghini did revel in riling him up just the same. An aggravated snort sounded from behind him.

"Since when do _you_ need a reason to spar?" Hostility, accusation and impatience were all thick in his tone. Oh, the copter was definitely fragged off, probably had been for a while….And that was almost definitely the reason as to why he'd sought out the Lamborghini in the first place.

Not that Sunstreaker _didn't_ want to spar; quite the contrary. He never was one to turn down an opportunity demonstrating his infinitely superior combat abilities to anyone willing, and many who weren't. Plus, the Lamborghini had long since been itching to get his hands back on a particularly feisty copter's rotors.

Nonetheless, in the end it always _was_ far more entertaining and satisfying to goad the younger 'Bot into making the first blind charge.

He languidly turned his helm to survey the Protectobot, giving a seemingly indifferent shrug, "I don't when it's actually worth my time"

Blades' optics narrowed, "The slag does that mean?!"

A calculating smirk tugged at the golden mech's faceplates, "It means I don't waste my time sparring with overgrown younglings who, Primus knows where, get this ridiculous notion that they can" he sneered, "'hold their own' against the likes of…no, against _me_" The copter's rotors twitched in rapidly broiling anger.

Sunstreaker let his optics fall on the silver appendages as Blades snarled, "I'm just as a good a fighter as you!"

A sardonic, dry chuckle escaped from the Lamborghini's vocaliser, naturally adding more fire to the copter's already smouldering fury. Deciding to reinforce his stance, the gold mech turned his helm back towards the ocean.

"Listen _kid_" he deliberately emphasised the epithet, audios detecting the distinctive sound of clenching hand joints. "Just because _you're_ the best fighter out of that sorry excuse for a gestalt you call a team-" Metal grooving over metal as a position sharply shifted. "-that only makes you about as good a fighter as the weakest 'Con" Knee joints tensed with a muted click. "In fact, you should just take pride in the fact that someone of my abilities is even _talking_ to a sorry, overindulged, weakling like you"

The slightest tilt of his helm was all that was needed.

A sharp surge of wind gushed by his faceplates when the fist, fully intended to rupture the back of his helm, passed harmlessly through the air. Sunstreaker easily moved around and onto his pedes in a nanosecond, his smirk breaking into an amused grin as he saw the copters rotors having imbedded into the sand he'd just vacated.

"Heh, getting serious are we?" his posture wasn't tense, but definitely alert. He could see just how incensed Blades was, and though he possessed only the utmost confidence in his own skills, he'd never make the rookie mistake of lowering his guard during a fight; no matter who the opponent.

Apparently done with words, Blades merely gave an animalistic snarl; ripping his rotors from the sand with a vicious spin. The momentum not only sent him temporarily air-bound but a cloud of sand-particles whirling at Sunstreaker. The Lamborghini's optics rapidly shuttered, hand instinctively rising to shield the sensitive glass.

_Hmm, now that's a new move…_

He instantly moved on the defensive, putting more distance between him and the concealed Protectobot. Creative thinking influenced the next action of offlining his optics, excess power diverted to his audios. He ran through every detected sound with all of the mechanistic speed of a finely tuned war-machine; wind, waves, clinking metal, slicing air, rotor beats. Blue optics snapped back online with a bleep.

Sunstreaker leapt backwards, deathly-sharp blades just grazing his upper arm, and barely eluded the copters dive-bomb attack. Blades cursed as his rotors, again, sunk deep into the soft sand-bed.

Sunstreaker's optics narrowed in scrutiny of the scratch.

_Last cycle…I just had this paintjob done. Last. Slagging. _Cycle_!_

Previous amusement shifting to temporary ire, the gold mech stalked forward. Blades noticed his rapidly approaching opponent and glared, wrenching his rotors free with a growl.

He spun and launched a punch, which Sunstreaker caught, effortlessly turning it into a powerful arm-hold. The Protectobot hissed a curse, raising his free arm to sucker-punch the Lamborghini. A painful compress on his trapped arm caused him to falter the movement, long enough for the golden mech to catch and trap the other arm as well.

Constriction on the trapped limbs too tight, Blades instantly kicked out at Sunstreaker's left leg; he distinctly recalled Aid saying how he'd had to repair some serious damage to the gold twin's knee-joint, so that particular area should still be pretty sensitive…

The Protectobot let a triumphant look tilt his expression as pede made contact with leg armour, but quickly turned to a one of confusion. What should have triggered a reaction of immense pain, only garnered a grunt of brief discomfort from the lone force of Blades' kick. A rather unsettling chuckle followed.

"Aiming to attack an opponent's weak point during a sparring session? That's pretty underhanded…I'm impressed" The Lamborghini's crooked grin filled his vision, dark optics full of amusement. "Lucky that brother of yours is such a good medic eh? Otherwise that could've _really_ hurt" Blades' optics narrowed as he furtively prepped his leg to kick out again. Well fine, if the aft-head didn't have a weak point anymore, Blades would just have to make a new one!

Sunstreaker anticipated the movement. With a single push he forced the two of them forwards, smoothly sticking his pede out behind the copter's. The Protectobot cursed in surprise as his legs were knocked out from under him and was sent tumbling backwards. Thankfully, the soft blanket of sand broke what otherwise could have been a rather painful fall; landing on one's rotors was never an enjoyable experience.

But before Blades could even begin to regain his equilibrium and manoeuvre to his feet, a far greater weight landed and temporarily jarred his processor. Optics rapidly resetting and flickering back into focus, he glared up into the still smirking face of Sunstreaker. He _would_ have punched the aft-head's faceplates in, had his arms not still been held tight either side of his helm. The Lamborghini gave a mock regretful sigh.

"How many times do we have to do this before you get that you're not meant to be a front-liner?" he wistfully asked, absently shifting himself into a more comfortable position above the copter; perfectly aware of how doing so put plenty of friction between their chest armour. Blades grimaced at the contact, but kept his glare fixed.

"Frag you" he spat.

"You need to work on the heckling as well" Sunstreaker noted, shifting his hold to indolently brush against a twitching rotor. "You scratched my paint" he added as an afterthought, optics roaming from the sharpened appendage back to the younger 'Bots faceplates. Blades seemed surprised, discomfort momentarily forgotten.

"…I did?" Sunstreaker inwardly rolled his optics at the level of doubt welling in the tone. He shifted slightly to display the grey scuff arc marring his otherwise pristine gold upper arm. Blue optics lit up in shock, then pride.

The Lamborghini gave a slight huff, "I guess you've been training. That's the first time you've actually managed to get me" Blades grinned smugly.

"Heh, and you didn't even manage to get a scrape on me" he sniggered, but quickly deflated and drew back as the gold twin leaned in, nasal plates just touching the Protectobot's.

The smirk resurfaced and Sunstreaker purred, "I think you're forgetting who, precisely, has the upper hand here" In one fluid movement he raised the copter's arms up over his head and used a single hand to pin them. "Although……You _did_ ruin my paintjob" He deftly ran one thick finger up from the beginning seam of a rotor to its rim, smirk widening as the appendage trembled. "Hmm, perhaps I should return the favour?" He sharply pinched the end, optics glinting wickedly at Blades' yelp. Sunstreaker smoothly dipped his helm to nip and suck along the copters neck cables.

The Protectobot gave an involuntary shudder, internal fans beginning to whirr, "This how you end all your fights?" he sardonically quipped, ending in a gasped curse from a particularly sharp bite to an energon line.

Sunstreaker hummed thoughtfully, before rumbling; "Depends on the opponent, and only when I feel like it"

Blades, despite the attentions on his neck and rotor, managed to shakily scoff, "Conceited aft-head"

"Hot-headed brat" the Lamborghini casually tossed back, helm rising to lock his own dimly lit optics with those of the copter. Gripping at the blue chin he ran his thumb over Blades' lips. His other hand had long since released the Protectobot's arms, already earning stifled moans as gold fingers delved into rotor seams.

"You know…" he offhandedly began, fingers pressing a little farther into the nest of wires and triggering a bitten-off cry from the copter. "…the only thing better than getting you angry-" He tightened his grip on Blades' chin, tilting it upwards; the younger's optics already hazy and devoid of all earlier petulance. "-is doing this to you"

He swooped down and crushed his lips to Blades' in a sweltering kiss, glossa easily slipping in as some pinched wires garnered a fresh yelp from the copter. The younger 'Bot returned the kiss with an equal fervour, white hands rising to grip at gold shoulder plates and fingers shakily slipping into joints. A low groan slipped from Sunstreaker's vocaliser as one of Blades' hands drifted up to his head-fins, blunt fingertips digging along the sensitive metal.

He uttered a guttural growl into the kiss at the added stimulation of his joints and sensory-nodes, hand relinquishing its grip on Blades' chin and moving up to tweak the joints between his arm and landing-skids.

He'd been slightly surprised when the copters helm suddenly flew back and broke the kiss, a keening cry escaping his vocaliser. Sunstreaker paused, then smirked. Ah yes, he remembered, less than a dega-cycle ago Blades had both landing-skids severely burnt while rescuing some humans from a raging inferno.

The Lamborghini chuckled, leaning down to purr into Blades' audio, "Sensitive?" A weak moan was the only answer, his gold-fingers continuing their assault on the area. He could easily detect the copters rapidly increasing heat, his own also climbing at a more stable pace; Blades' fingers continuing to dig into the sensory metal of his head-fin, though now in more of a desperate clutch rather than caress.

With another growl the Lamborghini swept down to lick and bite along the Protectobot's neck cables. Blades whimpered when blunt gold fingers dragged firmly along the ridge of his landing-skid, long yellow scratches marring its metal. He was unceremoniously roused when all attentions came to a stand-still, hazy indigo optics questioningly meeting those of the Lamborghini. A leering glint was all the warning he received before the golden helm rose, mouth latching onto a landing-skid.

Blades shrieked a curse, optics illuminating to an electric blue. He shuddered violently as denta roughly bit into the sensitised metal, only to sooth the dented area over with his glossa a second later. The heightened sensations of pleasure mingled with pain sent waves of heat pulsating through his frame, leaving him just on the brink to overload. Sunstreaker sensed his proximity and almost lazily rose his arm up and over the copters helm.

The golden warrior let a slow smirk tilt his expression, his mouth still pressed to the skid and murmured into the metal, "I win"

A single sharp pinch to his rotor-tip and Blades was gone, crying out loudly as overload washed over him. His helm sunk back into the sand, hands instinctively encasing Sunstreaker's head-fin and wires in a pincer-grip. The sudden harsh stimulation added to the already intense engine vibrations sending tremors between their chest armour was just enough to tip the golden warrior over the edge as well; overloading with a growl and powerful engine roar.

It was through sheer force of will-power that Sunstreaker kept himself from collapsing on top of the copter; not spawned through fear of harm, but exhibition of endurance.

Both 'Bots panted heavily as their respective internal fans hummed, working to cool their steaming systems. Sunstreaker languidly lowered his helm to smirk haughtily into blue faceplates, optics glinting in amusement as Blades' sated expression took on an annoyed light.

"You know this look suits you. On your back, in the dirt, all submissive and needy" The Lamborghini grunted as a knee roughly dug into his abdomen. "Well, maybe not the last two…" he returned the favour by leaning a portion of his weight onto one of the rotors, just enough for the metal the buckle slightly.

Blades winced and snapped, "And you're even uglier from this angle!"

Sunstreaker raised an optic ridge before leaning in and smirking darkly, "You know you're lucky you're a good 'face. Otherwise I'd have had to permanently sever your rotors a long time ago" he purred in an almost fond way. Blades huffed, crossing his arms tetchily.

"Whatever. Can you get off me now?! I've already got enough sand in my joints and you're not exactly a lightweight" Sunstreaker rolled his optics.

_The kid never learns does he?_

With a sigh, the Lamborghini briskly moved onto his pedes; unceremoniously grabbing a rotor and hauling Blades up with him. The copter gave an involuntary yelp at the painful yank of his appendage, but before the irate exclamation could leave his vocaliser, his lips were captured in a rough, heated kiss once again.

Though piqued, the Protectobot grudgingly reciprocated; hands instinctively gripping gold shoulder plates. Sunstreaker privately smirked at Blades' predictable reaction, only for his optics to alight with renewed guile.

He pulled back with a sharp bite to Blades' lower lip and a slow smirk; "Maybe next time you'll be able to hold your own for longer than two kliks before I get you on your back"

He easily ducked and rolled out of the way as a set of rotors slashed the air he'd just vacated. Shifting back onto his pedes he couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped him. Really, Blades was just _too_ easy sometimes. He let his optics greedily roam over the copter; fuming, aggressive, his. Just how Sunstreaker liked him.

Blades' fists clenched fiercely as he snarled, "I'll show you who'll be on their back you fragger!"

Sunstreaker languidly crossed his arms, "Bring it on-" he smirked crookedly, "-whirly bird"

With an enraged snarl, Blades charged at him; optics alight with murderous intent. The Lamborghini already felt his internal fans begin to whirr. If the Protectobot would continue to be this easy to provoke, Sunstreaker was in for a cycle of fun.

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**Author's Note: **Eh? Why do I like such weird couples -_-; Really?! Still, they're both violent, slightly bloodthirsty, not a bit lovey-dovey or sentimental; they work _well_ together XD

Seen as the Protectobots were created on Earth, I'm pegging Blades as younger. Though he's in no way a meek, benevolent soul! Aid's already got that covered ;D


End file.
